


Handle me good baby

by heavysetting



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: AU, Angst, Assets & Handlers, Humor, M/M, Spies dicking around, not a serious fic at all, that nobody asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-07-31 06:27:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20110624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavysetting/pseuds/heavysetting
Summary: ”When giving the teams code names you guys named yourselves after an energy drink. And laughed about it for days.” OR the asset and handler AU that no one asked for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not a serious fic at all. Written quickly and haphazardly with no semblance of a plot whatsoever. Basic premise: the F1 grid are part of a secret spy organisation and the majority of them don’t take spying seriously at all.

Max clocks in late in the morning, a cup of coffee in one hand and a croissant stuffed in his mouth as he tries to balance his bag on one shoulder, nudging the door open. He’s running horrendously late, but he’s not technically missed the briefing yet, as he shuffles quickly to the briefing room. As he enters, he interrupts Marko mid sentence and the man shoots him a poisonous look which he duly ignores. The other agents and handlers are already there, some looking amused and he quickly spots Daniel at the back of the room, waving at him.

He ducks behind everyone, half listening and finally settles in his seat, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Bad morning?” Daniel murmurs, leaning close in so they can whisper without being totally obtrusive.

“Fucking traffic.” He swears, muffled around another bite of his croissant, rummaging around in his bag. “Did I miss anything important?”

“Marko’s got his panties in a twist over our last mission. Apparently we had too much fun with our explosives and the Haas team ratted us out when stockroom didn’t have enough left.” 

“Losers,” Max mutters, and finally finds the remaining croissant he’d picked up, throwing it into Dan’s lap. “Here, for you.” 

“You absolute _ babe_.” Daniel crows gleefully, and unwraps the plastic loudly, causing Marko send another sharp eyed stare at them both. Lando is sat ahead of them and is shaking with silent laughter, and Max gets a text from him shortly straight after.

_ Helmut is going to kill you if you two keep this up. ;) _

Max just snorts and flips him the bird. 

Despite everything, they quickly settle down as the mission parameters become clearer. The agents don’t usually do team missions, F1 focuses on covert undercover ops, but there is a situation brewing inside the city and the local police force have asked for extra help. Red Bull have been paired with Mclaren, and Ferrari with Mercedes, and so they are broken into handler and agent teams to go over ops and mission briefings. They are to break up an underground fight ring, and although it isn’t something that would usually be in their jurisdiction, the ring is a front for human trafficking and money laundering, along with rumours of a prostitution ring for select spectators.

Daniel spends the rest of the briefing munching on his croissant, arm thrown casually around the back of Max’s chair, and Max skim reads the mission report, half listening. It’s a standard in and out, assist but let the local police enforcement clean up and call the shots. Nothing complicated, and only slightly dangerous.

“You prepared to have some fun with me tonight?” Dan says, expression sunny.

“Always Dan, always.” Max responds drily in return.

*

“Ooomph. That looked like it hurt.” Lando observes, wincing as he listens to his headset with one ear and watches Dan take down a man high on some kind of drug, only to be punched in the face moments after.

“You okay HB?” Max asks, but inside he’s not worried. The man has taken much worse before, he’s had his fair share of bar fights for fucks sake and the opponent looks too high to be of any serious threat. In the meantime, Carlos disarms a man coming through to his two o’clock with ruthless efficiency.

“Just taking the trash out, don’t worry about me sweetheart.” Dan coos, and Max feels the back of his neck flushing as he knows Lando can hear it through the mic. Lando presses the mute button on his keyboard and just raises an eyebrow whilst Max chooses to ignore him and unmutes his microphone.

“I’ve hacked the electronic locks in the cells on your floor. After you’re done with these guys make your way to the holding cells to release the hostages.”

“Trying to get me hot under the collar? You know I love it when you talk tech to me.”

“Oh my god, stop _ flirting _ and do your jobs.” Carlos grunts, Spanish accent heavy and exasperated as he fends off another would be attacker. Dan just cackles, completely unrepentant and Max lets his head fall to his desk with a dull thump. His face is burning now, and he knows what’s coming as Lando mutes their lines again. The team are pretty much cleaning up, and there’s not much they can do anymore. The rest is up to their assets and team A with Kimi and Lewis are already finished on the other side.

“You know what I’m going to say.”

“Leave me alone, you know how he is.”

“But you liiiikee him.” Lando singsong, eyebrows waggling.

“Dude he’s old!” He denies, but his face is absolutely burning up. He may have considered it, once or maybe twice, but so far denial has been his best friend and he refuses to give Lando what he wants. “Besides, he’s way too immature to function in a relationship.”

Lando stares at him a wry twist to his lips.

“When giving the teams code names you guys named yourselves after an energy drink. And laughed about it for days.”

Max tries not to feel too insulted. It had been legitimately funny, despite what everyone else had thought.

*

When he gets home, he throws his bag on the floor and runs a hand through his hair, feeling exhausted and wrung out. Although the mission had been a relative success, he had been stuck on report duty, replaying Lando’s teasing over and over in his mind. It’s not a big deal, but they do flirt outrageously and Lando isn’t the first to make remarks about it. He’s pretty sure that it’s just that, harmless teasing and resolves to forget about it in the morning.

He checks his home phone and ignores his unread voicemails, stomach sinking when he recognises the number. He deletes the messages, leaving them unread and goes straight to bed, curling up into a tight ball. Sleep comes, eventually.

tbc?


	2. Chapter 2

“Daniel Craig.” Max answers resolutely, without budging an inch.

“No fucking way.” Daniel cries, hand over his mouth in mock outrage. “You millennials have absolutely no taste whatsoever.”

“You’re technically a millennial too.” Max snorts, taking a long drink out of his water bottle. They’ve gone on a jog around the compound for lunch, and he’s absolutely not looking at the way Dan’s abs are neatly outlined by his sweatshirt. “Besides, we work in the industry, he’s the most realistic!”

“You’re telling me that Pierce wasn’t realistic? Come on.” He snarks back. “Wouldn’t that make you Q?”

“Absolutely not, I don’t make idiotic weapons. I’m more like that girl in The Bourne Identity, you know the one played by Julia Stiles.”

Dan pauses, and suddenly Max isn’t sure where he’s going to go with this. A slow, shit eating smile starts to creep onto Dan’s face and he tilts his head to give Max a considering glance.

“Oh yeah, I remember, blonde chick right? She was hot.”

Max chokes on his water, dissolving into a coughing fit and Dan slaps his back, cackling with laughter.

*

It isn’t later in the evening when Max gets his revenge. Dan is stuck doing undercover at a high stakes casino with Nico, and the two of them have been trying to one up each other on who the better poker player is for _ months. _ They don’t have a mission today, they are purely undercover to make sure the casino starts to recognise them as regulars, and the two of them have been gloating about it to the rest of the grid. They’ve gotten so obnoxious that Kimi leaves the room anytime one of them is seen inside. It isn’t often the agency will give them free money to blow away and currently there are hundreds of thousands of euros sitting in the jackpot, and Kimi is _ furious _.

(Max thinks that’s rather rich coming from Kimi as he knows for a fact that the Finn isn’t allowed a fuel allowance anymore as he’d used it to fill up his private jet.)

The blinds are played and Max can see Dan’s hand, and he knows enough about poker that it’s an amazing hand, and a crucial moment at play. Just as Dan starts to make his bet, Max pulls out a bag of crisps and starts to munch them, mouth smacking obnoxiously into Dan’s ear. He takes a special kind of joy in being an asshole and instantly, he sees Dan’s flinch. He starts to grin as he knows he’s fucked up the round as people start folding immediately, and he’s kind of thrilled to see Dan’s hands clench into fists on the screen.

“Real mature.” Dan mutters, voice low and annoyed.

“I’m almost a decade younger than you, what’s your excuse?”

“Don’t make me come over there and spank you.”

Max covers up any awkwardness by stuffing his mouth full of crisps and chewing even louder. 

He feels smug about it all week until Dan smashes up ten bags of Walkers all over his computer desktop.

*

They eventually call a truce on the prank war when the cleaners go on strike and Marko makes them clean the mess up themselves. It’s almost 8pm and they’re only halfway done, and Max takes off his sports cap to run his hand through his sweaty hair, having just mopped up the worst of it.

“This is your fault you know.” Dan says, leaning back against the table, legs outstretched in front of him. “Actions have consequences Maxie.”

“How is it _ my _ fault when you have the maturity of a four year old. _ I _didn’t smash up crumbs all over the place.”

“_ You _ didn’t have to retaliate.” Despite everything, Max can’t help but feel disarmed by that smile, snorting to himself. He’s so goddamn fond of his asset it’s almost dangerous and before he knows it Dan is reaching into his personal space, tipping his chin back with his thumb and forefinger. He’s not quite sure what is happening, and Dan uses his thumb to brush against his cheekbone, swiping away at something.

“Crumbs.” He explains, eyes crinkling up into a soft smile and Max can’t help but smile back. 

“Crumbs.” He nods and agrees, and Dan is adorably confused for a brief second when Max shoves the rest of the smashed up crisps down Dan’s shirt.

Marko phones them in the morning, and actually threatens to fire them.

  
  
  
  
  


tbc

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The Kimi thing I read in a youtube comment somewhere and is apparently true.  
2\. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=boDbsv4eGeA this video really shows the age difference as their pop culture references are all over the place.  
3\. This fic has shorter chapters than I usually prefer to write but I need to brain dump all this out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Max’s Fifa name is crgboy007 which cracks me up.  
2\. Shit suddenly gets serious.

Dan gets injured over the weekend racing dirt bikes on his friend’s farm.

He knows he’s an idiot, but he thinks Marko’s reaction is a tad over dramatic when he throws his phone at him, and Dan has to bat it away with the cast on his arm to avoid being hit. The man is a bad tempered bully, and Dan sucks it up and takes the suspension and temporary demotion, biting his tongue when Marko won’t let things lie.

“You had the Pembleton mission next week. They are going to have to give that to Toto now.”

Dan rolls his eyes. It isn’t a fucking competition, they’re here to do good, save the world yadda yadda and it’s not his problem if his team director has a boner for beating the others. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy his job, but he’d be a lot happier if he didn’t have to report to Marko. The man is a taskmaster, and Daniel isn’t sure the boss is quite in it for the right reasons. He knows he isn’t the most serious of agents in F1; he has the reputation of being a joker, but he also knows that his mission success ratio is the highest on the grid and that Marko can’t afford to fire him like he desperately wants to.

Admittedly, he should probably stop racing dirt bikes with Mike too.

“We need to talk about your handler, Max.”

Dan tenses, but isn’t stupid enough to react. He’s been toying with that particular idea for months now, but he hadn’t realised it had been so obvious. It’s not totally uncommon, and not exactly encouraged, but it’s just harmless flirting, nothing serious.

“Hmm, what about Max?”

“Don’t be coy Daniel. I am warning you, leave it alone. We don’t want what happened with Jean.”

Dan takes a step forward, and Marko shrinks back slightly. His expression is calm, and he smiles, with absolutely no warmth in his eyes at all.

“Don’t threaten me with Jev ever again.”

*

Max wakes up in the morning to an insistent knocking on his door. He tries to ignore it, but the knocking just grows louder, and then his door buzzer is pressed, a constant ring that won’t let up. Bleary eyed, he meanders his way to the door, scratching his stomach absently as tries to wake up. There’s only one person it could be so he’s not completely surprised when he’s greeted with Dan shoving a six pack of beer in his face as he lets himself into Max’s apartment.

“C’mon Dan, it’s eleven am in the morning. On the _ weekend. _” He groans, running his hand through his hair in exasperation.

“Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey.” Dan sing songs, kicking off his shoes and flopping himself onto the couch. 

“You’re not going to let me go back to sleep are you.” Max sighs, despondent.

“Nope. I’m bored, being off duty is the worst.”

“Maybe next time you should find a less idiotic way to hurt yourself then.” Max shoots back, rummaging around in his kitchen drawer for a bottle opener. It’s still the morning, but fuck it.

Dan just waves his cast at him, poking his middle finger up.

Max initially hears about Dan’s injury from Seb, Dan’s previous handler, and Seb heard about it from Kimi who had been in the room next to theirs when Marko had thoroughly lost his shit. Personally, Max thinks it’s a slight overreaction, but it’s an idiotic way to get injured, especially right before the Pendleton mission. They had been planning that one for months, and it wasn’t easy handing over his notes and research to Lewis, watching him walk off with three months of late nights and hard work poring over case files and blueprints.

Still. It could have been worse. At least it was only a broken arm. Max looks over to Dan who locks eyes with him, and raises his beer glass for a toast. He drinks.

*

One drink becomes two and then two becomes ten and a few shots for good measure. They follow each other to bar after bar and they both have absolutely no self control as they egg each other on with every drink they have. He’s used to Dan disappearing for months on end, and so it’s nice to spend some one on one time with him, instead of surrounded by the teams in the facility. He’s also been thinking about Lando’s teasing, and trying to ignore the warm flush that he’s feeling, especially when Dan reaches over and brushes against him, his left arm dangling dangerously close to the small of his back.

Dan’s a notorious flirt, and Max is only too aware that this is dangerous territory for him. He’s seen Dan go from person to person, leaving a wreckage behind each time. He absolutely refuses to be that person and also, if his father found out this is what he was doing instead of focusing on his missions he would be in a world of trouble.

“How are you doing?” Dan breathes, low and warm against his ear and Max resists the urge to jerk away. The dickhead is doing it on purpose.

“Way too drunk for this time of day. How’s the arm doing?”

Dan makes a lewd gesture with his cast and laughs, throwing his head back to expose his neck.

“Good, but frustrated if you know what I mean.” There’s a teasing lilt to his words and his eyes slide to Max, considering.

_ Want any help with that? _Max thinks, but doesn’t say. He’s drunk, but not that drunk and instead he laughs it off, playing up to the child that he knows Dan can be.

“There’s always an app for that, here, I’ll download it for you.” Max reaches for the phone, only for Dan to reach out, quick as lightning as he grabs his wrist in a firm hold. It’s times like this when Max remembers that Dan is a _ secret agent _ and he stills.

“Why would I need an app? You’re here right now aren’t you?”

The words are spoken out loud, and it slices through any ambiguity that they may have had between them. And somehow, it suddenly feels inevitable.

*

Max slinks into work in the morning, shirt crinkled and head pounding. His hair is a mess and he’s tried his best to get rid of the beard burn but it’s clearly completely unsuccessful because Lando immediately shoots him a concerned look from the other side of the room. Max just waves him off and sinks down into his seat, sliding down into a slouch. 

_ Fuck_.

  
  
  
tbc


End file.
